


Demons

by AnotherAnonymousAuthor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Developing Relationship, Discussion of Torture, F/F, New Beginnings, Recovery, Scars, Symptoms of PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 18,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnonymousAuthor/pseuds/AnotherAnonymousAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For 32 days, she was missing. When she came back she wasn't the same. It is in a unwanted protection detail that she finds someone who understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” - Kahlil Gibran.

It’s cold and quiet inside the quinjet as they speed east across the dark skies somewhere above Hungary.

There is a tense air that sits on the shoulders of its occupants.

An assassin sits in the back, leaning forward on her knees silently. Against the dark interior of the plane, her vibrant red hair is the first thing you notice. Across from her, another plays with a quiver full of arrows.

When he pulls out his bow and fiddles with it, there is a call from the front.

“Hey Hawkeye, try not to blow us up with those things before we manage to get the Deputy Director,” says Coulson, making his way towards the back.

The strong and stocky archer grins cockily. “Don’t worry, I left my explosive arrows back on the Carrier.”

The red head shakes her head and scoffs. Natasha Romanoff has not been an Agent of SHIELD for very long; the habits she developed from her former employer show through occasionally but she is trying.

“We’re almost there,” says the handler.

He is an older man with a gentle face, who looks like a bureaucrat in his suit and ties, and has a slight obsession with a super solider from the forties. He holds out a tablet with schematics on it. “We don’t know what the ground is going to be like when you get in there. What we do know is that entire militant force has retreated into the caves, which go deep into that mountain side. Director Fury believes that she is being held a quarter mile in from that entry point at the base of the mountain.”

“It’s been a over month,” Natasha says. “He still believes that she is alive? Please tell me that you understand that this is not an extraction. It’s a recovery.”

 _‘Old habits_ ,’ Natasha thinks. There was a mentality that the psych department was trying to figure out.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” exclaims Barton. “She’s tough, and honestly scares the hell out of me.”

“Fury needs to cut his losses and start implementing security measures. Dead or alive, he doesn’t know what information she might have shared.”

Coulson sighs. “Romanoff, we’ve had this conversation. I know that you understand the chain of command concept very well so I don’t need to explain it. Extraction is the mission, and we will execute this to the best possible standards. Is that understood?”

She gives an unreadable expression but doesn’t break eye contact and murmurs over the engine noise. “Yes sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s cold and the air is stale.

Light comes from industrial lamps and barely reaches the dark corners of the cave.

In a corner, a woman cowers awkwardly on a makeshift bed of rags. She is gaunt and tired, but still she refuses to talk. They are trying to break her down but she is determined if anything not to let them beat her down.

Slowly, they are beginning to win.

While she has long since lost track of the time, she has managed to keep count of other things; the number of interrogations she had endured for instance. But despite the nineteen interrogations the worn down brunette has yet to answer any of her captors questions.

Because she was Maria Hill, the Deputy Director of SHIELD.

Every time she wakes up after passing out, she can’t help but feel that little closer to death, with a little less faith that someone will find her. There are only the voices in her head to keep her company when she is isolated.

She shakes uncontrollably in the darkness.

Even with dulled senses from the lack of use, it is hard to ignore the growing sounds of explosions from the other side of the locked steal door that kept her prisoner. Her body aches as a result of the interrogations and even though she feels dizzy when she struggles to stand up, she does it regardless.

There was an arm around her waist and her ribs were on fire. Her field of vision was spotty from the sudden flash bang that had knocked the door of its hinges.

“Let’s go,” came a voice. A flash of vibrant red echoed in her vision. “We gotta get out of here.”

The light outside was blinding. And her ears were ringing after the gunshots.

It was easier to see once she was inside the quinjet; it was quieter and less chaotic, only a few people but enough for her to know she wasn’t alone.

“We’re taking you home, Hill,” said Coulson with a smile, as a field doctor wrapped her in a foil blanket and began assessing her injuries.

She was free from her captors physically but not from her mind.

There was another flash of vibrant red in her peripheral vision.

And then there was black.


	3. Chapter 3

The training facility was buzzing with activity.

Natasha was working off some stress and aggression onto a training dummy as if it were an agent of her former employer. Everything was different, yet it was the same. Two sides of the same coin so to speak.

The training was the something she could easily identify with, and it gave her a sense of purpose because admittedly she didn’t understand her own choice to defect. Sure there was the point that it would be one side to kill her and it was just a matter of time before someone went first.

And when the time came, a stocky and strong assassin they had sent to kill her took one look at her and made a different call. Natasha went along with it easily. She went along with all of it, the deprogramming and the confusing ideals of freedom and self-construction.

“Romanov,” was called across the hall. She didn’t stop her annihilation of the dummy, not even for the Director of SHIELD.

“What?” she called back. She could tell that he didn’t look impressed that she didn’t meet him with the customary salute and ‘sir’.

“I was very pleased with your work on the extraction of Agent Hill.” He sounded almost proud.

“I did what I was told,” she exclaimed as the dummy took another hard hit.

“I have another assignment for you.”

That stopped her in her tracks. Her time at SHIELD hasn’t been a long one but her assignments so far hadn’t been very challenging. And it was beginning to piss her off.

Natasha finally turned to him, and took the offered file complete with the logo on the front.

“It’s hush-hush,” he said.

“So you hand it to me in the middle of a crowded training facility?” she cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

She liked to test her boundaries, figure out how much leeway she had before they would pull rank and put her recon missions with Sitwell for months as punishment. Sure, Natasha respected the man in front of her, and it wasn’t simply because he was the director. He had an ability to see things that no one else could and she wondered if she was one of those things.

As soon as she opened the file, she scoffed and snapped it shut. “You’re kidding right?”

“You don’t seem pleased,” he observed with look of slight amusement mixed with annoyance.

“Of course I’m not. You do understand the irony in this right?” she asked, shaking the file. “I just spent a month before that extraction being a glorified babysitter for Stark and now you want me to do it again? I’m an assassin.”

“As if I would forget that. Think of it like this: we’re easing you into SHIELD,” he says. Natasha scoffs again. “This is high priority. I wouldn’t hand this to just anyone. You’d be on your own, make your own calls about security just until we round up the rest of that militant group.”

“We can see about making missions a little more challenging for you after you complete this.” Fury looked at her expectedly. “Do we have a deal?”

“When do I start?” she asked. The prospect of something more challenging sounded closer to what she was familiar with.

“Day of discharge, but she hasn’t woken up yet so be ready.” He turned and walked away.

“I want a raise,” she yelled after him. He simply laughed.

There were a few lower level agents nearby who looked at her, shocked that she could get away with talking to the Director like that. She raised that eyebrow again and added a trademark smirk.

They ran and she headed in the opposite direction to get started.


	4. Chapter 4

When she wakes up with a jolt, it’s to a sterile hospital room.

The sharp lights hurt her eyes but at least there is a gentle thrum of people outside her room.

Maria is on mattress that is definitely softer than rags on a rocky floor and doesn’t quite feel right. There is a heart rate monitor off to the side somewhere and she focusses on the constant ‘beep-beep’ to distract her. Slowly but surely the beeping, along with her breathing begins to even out.

She can feel the hypersensitivity beginning to creep in; the way the bandages caught on the fabric of the blanket; the way her breathing felt laboured; the cold adhesive holding the monitors to her skin; how she could hear every little noise in her room and many outside of it; her mouth was dry.

Her body aches from the jolt that woke her and her head spins under the lights and she tries to remember what she had been dreaming about when she drops back onto the bed. Except she hadn’t been dreaming, she had been having a nightmare.

They liked electricity, her captors. She shook for hours afterwards the first time they had tied her to a makeshift electro-shock machine. Her voice had gone hoarse because of the screaming.

“You’re awake,” came a voice from the corner. She hadn’t seen them sitting there.

“Obviously,” Maria snarled. It came out harsher than she intended it; the lights were stinging her eyes. “Lights. Off.”

Seconds later the offending light had disappeared and slowly she could open her eyes to adjust better. Nick Fury was sitting in the visitor’s chair.

“Sir,” she said. Being in a hospital bed did not stop her from being the lower ranked agent in the room.

“No need to ‘sir’ me Hill. You’re off duty,” he smiled gently. It was rare considering that Maria didn’t always agree with his decisions, and told him often.

“How long?” she asked. She could finally feel herself calming down enough, now that the lights were off. Although the ability to feel everything made her want to crawl out of her skin.

“You were M. I. A. for thirty-two days, you’ve been unconscious for three.” He explained. “I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner. They were very good at hiding. Do you know where you are?”

Maria took a moment to breathe through the tightness in her chest. “My guess is D.C. SHIELD medical facility. Regardless of our opinions of each other, I doubt you would put the Deputy Director in a shotty hospital somewhere. And there is a SHIELD logo on my med charts.”

“Observant for someone with optical hypersensitivity.”

“It’s not just my eyes.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “I caught the end of that nightmare.”

Maria looks away embarrassed. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you.” She had trouble reading him.

“How bad is it?” she asked. Maria had spent years working to conquer and control the feeling of fear, but the answer still scared her.

“Bad. Burns, abrasions and contusions on most of your body, your shoulder was dislocated when they found you, dehydrated and starved. And that’s just the physical side. Your doctors are worried about the impact to your mental state.” She sighed as he explained it, even though he didn’t need to. She was there when it all happened and she remembers most of it. It was just as hard hearing it in a hospital. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

“How the hell could this be worse?” Maria’s throat was starting to feel dry.

“You could be dead.”

 _‘You have no idea how many times I wished for that,’_ she thought to herself. _‘Just to make them stop.’_

“Now that you’re awake, your personal protection detail will begin.”

“What? No. As soon as I’m cleared, I’m back on the Helicarrier, where I should be,” she snapped.

He counted her. “But it may be a while before you’re cleared. You’re on forced medical leave with pay, of course, until you are cleared by all members of your medical team. And stop pouting. You’re a grown woman, not a child.”

“Well I feel like I just got grounded by dad,” she said, shaking her head against the pillow. Her head was beginning to throb. “Who?”

“She was on the extraction team with Barton, helped to lead it, but I thought he might be a bad choice.”

“Who?” she asked again.

“Romanov.”


	5. Chapter 5

The atmosphere in the hospital room was frosty and it was not from a lack of heating or the snow that coming down outside slowly in late January.

It had been a few days since she woke up and Maria was more than ready to leave. It was too sterile and foreign, her bed was so soft that it was actually uncomfortable, and she hadn’t been able to sleep because of the stream of nightmares that appeared every time closed her eyes.

In the corner, Natasha was watching with arms folded and a scowl on her face as the doctor ran through her self-care instructions. She had walked in the door barely an hour after Maria had woken up with the same expression on her face.

She hadn’t left since. And neither had the scowl.

Maria had surveyed the woman in front of her in the dimmed light and even in the shadows could see the two concealed pistols, and was only able to hazard a guess at how many other weapons she was hiding.

The two of them had barely said a thing to each other, other than to explain that neither were happy about the protection detail.

The brunette had all but ordered the assassin out when her bandages had been changed or when she was sleeping; she was being forced to show this woman her fears and weaknesses. Maria did not like this. At all.

No one had ever seen that side of her. Maria didn’t trust Natasha entirely. Her abilities yes, but her loyalty no.

Natasha had made it apparent from the moment she walked into the room that a protective detail assignment was the last thing she wanted, even with Fury standing right there.

He had laughed at them. “Good luck ladies.”

They both glared at him as he left.

It was tense, but constant. Despite being kicked out of the room multiple times, Natasha hadn’t left.

“You know I can walk right?” asked Maria, who was finally wearing some of her own clothes. Natasha was behind her pushing the wheelchair.

“Hospital policy, you know that, Hill.” Natasha smirked.

“You going to boss me around the entire time?”

“Probably. Are you going to listen?”

“Probably not,” she sighed. “This is complete bullshit.”

“For once I agree with you.” They stopped outside where Natasha’s car was waiting. “This is only until the rest of them are caught. We just have to suck it up.”

“This is bullshit,” Maria repeated, as she lowered herself gently into the passenger’s seat. It was a little awkward because of how low the car was but she shrugged off any help from Natasha. She had spent over a month in a cold dark cave trying to ‘suck it up’ as she was tortured continuously.

Natasha shut the door behind the woman. “Yeah I know.”

Surprisingly enough the sun was out for the time of year and Maria had buried her head under her hood to try and block out the light. Natasha noticed her head bowed and asked if she was okay.

“My eyes are still adjusting to the light sometimes. The sun reflecting off the snow is making my head hurt.”

“Here,” she said. Natasha was offering a spare pair of sunglasses. “Considering a peace offering.”

“A peace offering for what?” she asked, accepting the glasses and putting them on.

“We both agree that this is one of the worst idea’s Fury has ever had right? And we don’t exactly like one another either.” Maria nodded. “Doesn’t mean we don’t have to get along while we’re both stuck in this situation. Might make it a bit easier to get through it.”

“Maybe.”

“You think I’m cold hearted don’t you?” Natasha asked.

“Well you are an assassin.” Maria answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart. It just means I can control myself in a way that most people on the planet wouldn’t even understand.”

Maria looked at her with curiosity and shuffled when her sore shoulder hit the door on a tight corner. “Right.”


	6. Chapter 6

The moment they had arrived at the brunette’s apartment, Natasha had been adamant that she check everything out despite Maria assuring her that she had the best possible self-monitored security.

It was in the industrial sector, split level, open floored and furnished moderately. There was no way to be boxed in and there was nowhere for anyone to hide. The entrance was by the kitchen which flowed easily to the dining room, and on to the lounge. The master bedroom was upstairs along with a second bedroom and a bathroom.

Once it had been deemed safe, Maria had then tiredly followed on with, “I need a shower.”

“Do you need-“

“Nope,” she said, cutting off the end of the assassin’s question. She assumed that it would be an inquiry as to whether or not she needed help. Even if she did, there was very little chance that she would admit it purely out of stubborn pride. Maria hated the idea that anyone might see her in a moment of weakness or view her as soft because she couldn’t handle the pain.

“You know I am here to help too.” Natasha almost failed to hide the exasperation.

“I thought we both agreed that neither of us wanted to be here,” Maria said, as she kicked her shoes off and padded towards the stairs. Natasha watched as the other woman’s fingers brushed across the top of an old piano that was occupying the wall below the stairs.

“We did,” Natasha confirmed. There was a spot just above her brow that crunched in confusion and curiosity.

“Then why are you all of a sudden so willing to fulfil all standard babysitting duties?” Maria looked down on her.

“I’m supposed to protect you from everything,” she paused, “and that includes yourself.”

Maria scoffed. “You don’t need to protect me from anything.”

Fifteen minutes later she was scolding herself in the bathroom mirror for not accepting the help, as she surveyed her body more easily.

Bruises were various shades of yellows and greens, purples and blues. There were random patches of gauze covering the raw burns. Her left shoulder was aching. Her face was gaunt and pale, her eyes showed her weariness and fatigue, and she looked nothing like herself. Looking at her reflection, Maria saw a ghost of who she once was.

Through the door came Natasha’s voice. She was standing there waiting, like she had been since she arrived at the hospital. “You can’t reach the bandages on your back, can you?”

It wasn’t a smug question, just a simple one. “I’m fine.”

“With your shoulder being sore, I’m betting that you can’t reach it as easily as you would like. If you need help, I am here.”

It was almost an internal battle. On one hand, her body was now riddled with healing injuries, most of which would probably leave scars. She could not deny that a woman like Natasha Romanov was beautiful, intimidatingly so, and she didn’t want herself seen like this. But on the other, there was no way she could actually reach the gauze sitting below her shoulder blade without feeling the burning sensation in her shoulder.

“Fine,” Maria said. Her voice went quiet as the door opened and she refused to make eye contact. “Please be quick.”

Natasha did as she was asked and left, shutting the door quickly behind her. “If you need me to cover them after your shower, I don’t mind.”

She had seen Maria’s jaw clench the moment she had walked in the door and knew that she wasn’t at all glad to accept the help. The embarrassment, anger and weary anxiousness were coming off the brunette in waves. Natasha was surprised and silently amazed that she didn’t start crying.

When she let the door snap shut quietly, she wasn’t quite sure but Natasha could have sworn she heard a muttered ‘Thank you’.

Natasha left the brunette to her shower.

Even without a time frame on how long she was going to be on this protection detail, she could already tell that it was going to be a long one.

And it was only day one.


	7. Chapter 7

Maria had fallen asleep on the couch after reluctantly letting Natasha re-cover the wounds she couldn’t reach, eaten half a grilled cheese sandwich and taken her pills. She had muttered something about the couch being more comfortable than her bed upstairs as she fell asleep.

Half an hour later, Natasha had been familiarising herself with the interior of the apartment when she had heard whimpering from the couch. She had woken Maria up when she started tossing and turning, concerned that she might hurt herself. The brunette had pushed herself into the furthest corner of the couch before realising that it was Natasha who was holding her hands out in a surrendering manner.

“You’re okay. You’re at home, Hill,” she said. It had taken her a few minutes before she had calmed down. “You alright?”

Maria’s chest was heaving and she was hugging her left arm to her body. “I’m fine.”

Natasha didn’t want to push her so she simply retrieved a glass of water and sat it on the side table before returning to her place by the apartment length windows to eye off the street below.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” Maria said. Natasha looked at her to see that her eyes were closed and she was focussing on her calming her breathing.

“Oh yeah?” Natasha asked. “And what’s that?”

“That I’m weak, or being stupidly pathetic over this.” Maria scoffed at herself.

“That’s not what I think.”

“Yeah right.”

“It’s not,” said Natasha as he sat down on the piano’s bench. “I think you’re a survivor. You’re tough and this is fresh. Survivors have scars too.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Do you have scars?” Maria asked.

Natasha looked at the broken woman. “Too many to count,” she replied honestly. “You just can’t see most of mine.”

Natasha wasn’t used to revealing much of herself; it went against the training she had gone through over the years. But she wasn’t KGB anymore so she didn’t have to keep absolutely everything to herself.

“You’re not alone here, you know that right?” Natasha asked. “You don’t have to fear judgment by me if you ask for help.”

Maria didn’t meet the assassin’s eyes but simply nodded instead. “I should get some more sleep.”

“Yeah, you should,” Natasha agreed. “I’ll walk you up.”

Short of tucking her in, Natasha simply helped her get settled. She had been listening when Maria had muttered that the bed was too soft. She left the glass of water and the next round of medications. “If you need me, just call out.”

“Leave it open!” Maria called.

As much as she tried to hide it, the flash of momentary fear couldn’t be stopped from making an appearance as Natasha moved to close the bedroom door on her way out. Most of her time had been spent in isolation, with only her thoughts and growing fears to keep her company. She needed to know that she could escape if she had too.

“Please?”

To Natasha, she almost sounded desperate. “Sure.”

“Can you, um,” Maria paused, “Can you leave the TV on downstairs? Just for some background noise?”

Natasha nodded, and offered a smile. “Of course.”

Maria settled into the pillows and left on the light on the bedside table. It was going to be a long night.


	8. Chapter 8

They hadn’t left the apartment in days.

While Maria was more than comfortable to stay home to avoid the cold temperatures outside, Natasha was less than okay with being couped up. It reminded her too much of the punishments that she endured during her training.

The sight of the snow outside only made Maria’s skin crawl and retreat further into herself. Her days were spent napping on the couch, buried under a thick throw rug to keep warm. Natasha only left her spot by the window to wake the brunette up when she began thrashing violently from a nightmare.

Her nights weren’t spent much different. Every night the TV was left on downstairs and Maria’s door was left open. At least three times a night, Natasha was waking from a light sleep to wake her up and calm her down. The fear in her eyes was too familiar for Natasha’s liking.

Maria was half asleep on the couch, a grilled cheese sandwich resting on the sofa’s arm as she hugged her left arm to her body.

“You need to eat something other than grilled cheese,” said Natasha, as she deposited a glass of water and Maria’s antibiotics on the side table before joining her on the cough.

“It’s comfort food,” she shrugged tiredly. She felt exhausted but was too scared to close her eyes. She sighed heavily. “I’m struggling to stomach water. Anything other than something this simple will be too much.”

“Well you have to eat more than one sandwich a day.”

“I’m not very hungry,” she muttered around what appeared to be the final parts of her sandwich. There was still a third left.

She shifted in her seat restlessly and rubbed at her shoulder.

“But you are sore?” Natasha asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you need anything?”

“You mean other than for these burns to heal, my shoulder to stop aching, this headache to go away and the nightmares to stop?” Maria snapped.

Natasha wasn’t surprised at the harsh reaction and chose to take her spot back by the window. Even though she knew that they weren’t friends and weren’t close, Natasha had the impression that there was at least respect and a level of trust there; Maria had willingly let the red head re-dress the burns that she couldn’t reach and was beginning to see her face as a comforting sight when she was woken up.

She could remember returning from assignments which plagued her with nightmares. Despite the constant reprogramming, the nightmares were stronger and even now she woke up from them. Silence settled in the apartment and Maria almost nodded off again.

“I’m sorry.”

Natasha looked up from the window. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“Yeah I do,” Maria raised her head to meet Natasha’s eyes.

“You’ve been on home soil for barely a week. What happened to you? It wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t control it,” Natasha said. “Believe me, I understand everything that is going through your head right now.”

“No you don’t.”

“Trust me, I do. Probably more than you think.” Another silence settled until Maria yawned. “You should get some sleep again.”

“Is it stupid if I’m scared to go to sleep?” Maria whispered. “It’s like I lived through it in reality and I don’t think I can keep doing it every time I close my eyes.”

Natasha smiled gently and took her spot next to the brunette on the couch. “It’s not stupid. I know that you can. You’re strong, Hi-…. _Maria_. When I went through this, I went through it alone and it was usually used for punishment. I still have nightmares. But you? You’re not alone. If you need help, I am here okay? I may be more on the frostier side for this kind of thing but I’m still here. And I can still help.”

Maria sighed heavily and shakily. “I’m tired.”

“So go to sleep. I’ll sit right next you if it’s what you need,” Natasha offered.

Maria looked at her out of silent curiosity for a few moments. “You’re nothing like what I thought you were.”

“What did you think I was?” Natasha asked. She knew what everyone thought of her, of all the stereotypes and ways people had seen her. But nothing had really prepared her for this answer.

“You’re more…human than I realised, I guess.”

Within minutes, Maria was asleep and Natasha was left wondering what it meant to be something even she never saw herself as, as the afternoon faded into evening.


	9. Chapter 9

It seemed that Natasha’s shoulder had become the pillow that kept Maria asleep for more than half an hour.

The redhead had moved from her spot by the window to the seat next to her charge on the couch the day before and with the exception of getting food, going to bed or having a shower, the two of them barely moved. Not long after eating the lone sandwich she would consume for the day, Maria’s head would roll to the side and find its resting place on Natasha’s shoulder.

When she did this, she woke up less violently from the nightmares but when she began to whimper and twitch, Natasha gently shook her awake with a soft smile and an immediate distraction. Maria didn’t want to talk about it just yet and it wasn’t Natasha’s job disassemble the nightmares, only to protect her in the physical sense.

However, she didn’t realise that Maria was beginning to find comfort in the closer proximity with the other woman. There was a sense of safety that she provided and it wasn’t just because she could kill a man with her thighs and not have one hair out of place doing it.

Food was beginning to run scarce in the apartment, and Natasha had told herself that when the woman sleeping next to her woke up from her after lunch nap they would head to the supermarket. She was concerned of the Maria’s mentality regarding being in an overcrowded, loud and bright supermarket but there had to be a first step somewhere.

Almost like clockwork, the woman asleep on her shoulder because to whimper and grimace through the beginning of a nightmare.

“Hey,” she said. Her hand was resting on Maria’s thigh lightly while shaking her gently. “Maria, wake up.”

It took her a little longer before she woke up and Natasha had to shake her a little harder. Maria’s eyes snapped open but she didn’t jolt up like she usually did. The light brown eyes took in the apartment and the redhead next to her until she couldn’t stop the yawn and rubbed her eyes.

“How long was I out?” she asked, as her head dropped back down to her shoulder shaped pillow.

Natasha’s hand hadn’t moved from her thigh, and neither commented on it.

“Almost two hours. I think you beat your record,” she answered. As usual, she had a distraction ready to rid Maria’s mind of the nightmare and turned her laptop towards the half-asleep woman. “I want a new car. What do you think of these?”

With the exception of the reasoning behind Natasha’s presence in the apartment, the situation was extremely casual considering that this was the first time the two women had been alone for more than five minutes. Their demeanour read as two people who had been close friends for years, rather than a protection detail assigned at the last minute.

“I like that one,” Maria muttered, pointing to a red Porsche. “But in black.”

Natasha simply nodded her head and opened up the online specifications for the car. “We need to go food shopping. I know you can eat grilled cheese sandwiches for the rest of your life, but you don’t have anything left to make the grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Maria momentarily paled. “Ummm…I’m not sure I can do the whole people thing. Just yet. And it’s cold outside.”

“I understand that. I do,” said Natasha. “You can’t hide forever.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing? Isn’t that why you are here?”

“This isn’t a safe house, it’s your home. A place that needs to be restocked.” Mara could feel the other woman’s eyes on her. “I can’t leave you alone to go get food, and you won’t go by yourself. So we go together.”

Natasha’s thumb unconsciously stroked the sweatpants covered thigh beneath, and it was only then that Maria noticed the sensation. Silently, she didn’t want the woman to stop.

“You won’t separate from me?”

“No,” she could see an inkling of fear in Maria’s eyes. “We can wrap you up in warm clothes, and I’ll keep physical contact at all times so you know I’m there.”

It took a few moments of silence before she agreed. “Okay. Just don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

Twenty minutes later, Maria was wrapped up a thick jacket, scarf and beanie to combat the colder temperatures outside, looking almost like an eskimo compared to Natasha’s leather jacket and jeans.

It was a Saturday afternoon and the supermarket two blocks over was teeming with parents and small children. Together they walked the aisles as quickly as was comfortable for Maria; her body was tired and sore and still trying to get her energy back. Natasha walked calmly next to her, one hand on the small of her back and the other carrying the basket. If she realised that the brunette was leaning into her she didn’t say anything other than to offer her opinions on breakfast cereals and vegetable options.

They were perusing the canned soup when there was a smash in the next aisle and the sounds a child being told off.

“Hey, you’re okay,” said Natasha.

Maria had grabbed her hand reflexively and was squeezing tightly. Her eyes were shut and her body was giving off slight tremors.

“Maria, look at me.” If it was possible, Maria’s eyes only shut harder. “Maria open your eyes.”

She had to put the basket down to focus on the brunette more and rested her hand on her other arm. Natasha simply rubbed her hand up and down until the breathing evened out and the brown eyes opened.

“I’m sorry,” Maria whispered.

“It’s okay, really. It was reflex, you couldn’t help it,” Natasha said with a soft smile. “But you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Maria visibly gulped and nodded, trying to shake off the feeling of inevitable insecurity. Natasha picked the basket up and moved to replace her hand on the small of Maria’s back again, but the hand holding hers refused to let go.

“Don’t let go,” she said quietly. “Please.”

“Sure,” Natasha answered, simply twining their fingers together instead and coaxing her down the aisle, promising that they could head to the check out. Maria’s breathing wasn’t quite calm enough for her to be comfortable.

By the time they reached the car and the doors were shut, they sat in silence while she took deep breathes.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s a typical response after someone goes through something you did, okay?” Natasha replied. “But you’re okay. You’re safe. You did really well in there.”

“I did?” Maria asked unsure.

“Yeah, you did.” She could see the uncertainty on the other woman’s face. “Do you need something?”

“Can you hold my hand again?” she whispered. “I know I’m being stupid but it helped. Having something that I could feel, something that grounded me.”

Natasha simply reached over the centre console and twined their fingers together once more, and was silently glad that she could drive forward out of her parking space. The drive was spent in silence as the redhead drove with one hand, and she could feel the waves of self-pity and disappointment coming off her passenger.

Not being one to push, Natasha resigned herself to the fact that it would be a talk to continue another time.

“Thank you,” came quietly in the silence of the interior.

Natasha offered a small smile as the stopped at a red light, and realised that she was seeing something the woman next to her would never let anyone else see. She didn’t understand because she had expected ten foot steal walls with barbed wire and guard dogs to get through before she witnessed any sign vulnerability.

Maria trusted Natasha.

That was enough for her to keep her thumb stroking back and forth.


	10. Chapter 10

The apartment was quiet and still with the exception of the soft dull tones coming from the TV downstairs.

Natasha hadn’t quite been ready to head to bed, and had instead opted for perusing her car choices yet again with a hot cup of coffee to distract herself. Her afternoon had been spent sitting on the couch with her fingers laced with Maria’s, who had a hard time shaking off the flashbacks after their trip to the supermarket.

It had been oddly comforting not only for the brunette for also for Natasha. While linking fingers with another person wasn’t unfamiliar to her, the sensations that she felt was something she didn’t quite understand. There was an easiness to it she couldn’t identify and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a rare flutter occurring somewhere in her stomach.

It had been drilled into her from her early days in the Red Room project that love was for children, and wasn’t a concept that was necessary in her line of work. It would only act as a means of exploitation. So it was locked away inside somewhere for so long that Natasha wasn’t sure it even existed within her anymore.

Until Maria took her hand.

She paused in her thinking and her comparison of two cars to listen carefully; Maria was having a nightmare. Depositing her laptop off to the side, she made a beeline for the stairs.

Maria was twisting under the sheets and even from the doorway, she could see a sheen of sweat.

“Maria,” Natasha said, trying to shake her awake gently.

Her attempts were thrown out the window when after several minutes, the brunette still didn’t wake up. She simply moaned and whimpered louder, and shook harder.

“Maria, wake up. Come on, it’s just a bad dream. Maria,” she spoke louder and shook a little harder.

“No, please,” she begged to her tormentors.

“Maria!” Maria seemed to wake from the nightmare and sat bolt upright. Her eyes were frantic and Natasha could see the fear running deep in the brown eyes. “Hey, hey. You’re okay, you’re at home.”

Reflexively, Maria’s arms wrapped themselves around Natasha’s shoulders and the younger woman paused momentarily before letting her arms snake around Maria’s ribs to hold on tightly. They sat there on the bed for a few minutes and she could feel just how soaked the brunette’s tank top was.

“You’re okay,” she whispered.

Maria pulled back, after she had calmed down enough to realise that she was hugging an assassin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. Really I don’t mind. Are you okay?” Natasha asked, with a kind smile and a hand cupping the side of Maria’s face.

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Every time I close my eyes, I see them again,” she said as her eyes glazed over. “I see them giving me the burns or I’m tied to a chair and they’re interrogating me again. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat. I can’t be in public spaces without being bordering panic attacks. I can’t keep doing it. I’m so tired, Natasha.”

Natasha could see the pure exhaustion and fear in the woman’s teary eyes. She let her fingers brush the hair back from her face.

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“Honestly?” Maria nodded into the hands that were framing her face. Natasha took a second before she answered. “You know what I do. In order to do my job, I have to emotionally manipulate every person I might possibly come in contact with. I was trained to put myself in a position because my target wanted me there. I know what to do, when to do it and why it has to be done. I guess I can emotionally manipulate myself, compartmentalise. Years of training and even now sometimes I struggle.”

“Are you emotionally manipulating me?” Maria asked, through slight hiccups.

“No. I’ve been through things so I can understand more easily. That is all.” Despite her history, the question still stung. “You need to sleep, Maria.”

“I can’t sleep, Nat. Every time I close my eyes…” she drifted off.

Natasha felt an unusual flutter at her shorted name.

“I have an idea.” Maria looked at her wearily. “You know how you said in the supermarket that holding my hand gave you something to keep you grounded?”

“Yeah.”

“How about we try that here. I’ll hold your hand and I’ll stay right here, while you sleep. I won’t let go.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Maria asked.

“Because I never had anyone who understood or who could help,” she muttered. “We don’t have to, it’s just an idea.”

She began to rise from her seat on the edge of the bed, but there was a hand on her wrist. “Stay? Please?”

Natasha simply nodded and made her way around to the other side of the bed before getting in. Rearranging the pillows behind her, she laid down on her side facing the brunette, who mirrored the position. Almost hesitantly, as if it were the first time they had done it, Maria reached out for her hand.

She obliged with a smile and offered her opposite hand, leaving her right one free to calmly and soothingly stroke Maria’s cheek.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

Natasha was the first to wake the next morning.

It was still early and there was a weak stream of sunlight coming in behind her through the window. For the first time that she could ever recall, she genuinely felt comfortable and settled, almost as if the stresses of her job and life didn’t exist and she just was.

Opening her eyes, the first thing she noticed was Maria, still mirroring her position. They appeared to have not moved during the night because their hands were still twisted together and Natasha was still cupping the brunette’s cheek. If anything they may have shifted closer to each other.

There was a tight clench somewhere in her chest that she didn’t recognise, although she was very well aware that her feelings for the woman in front of her were becoming less than professional. She wanted to move her head that little bit closer, so she could find out what those lips tasted like, how it would feel to wake someone up with a kiss, someone you genuinely liked.

And that wasn’t allowed.

But when Maria stirred and her eyes fluttered open without any sign of fear, she couldn’t stop herself from whispering with a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi there,” came back to her. Maria managed to stretch without breaking the contact between them, leaning into the hand on her face.

“How did you sleep?”

Maria paused for a second. “There was the beginning of a bad dream somewhere there but nothing bad enough to wake me up. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Protecting me.”

Natasha felt a small swell of pride and smiled. “Stop, you’re going to give me an ego.”

With a squeeze of the hand she had linked with the other woman, she left the bad declaring herself hungry for breakfast, something that Maria had to eat. She began bartering over what she could eat and how much.

“One piece of plain toast,” said the brunette as she shuffled ahead of Natasha down the stairs. As usual she drummed her fingers along the top of the piano at the bottom of the stairs as she passed.

“And some coffee,” came the answer. “Do you play?”

“What?” came the confused answer.

“The piano. Do you play or is it just there for looks?” Natasha asked. She slightly smirked when she realised that Maria has been looking at her exposed skin when she reached for mugs in a higher cupboard. And Maria had realised she had been caught.

“Yeah, my grandfather taught me.” Maria was confused. In front of her was a woman who she should only see as a colleague, a highly skilled assassin who could probably kill with one look. Instead she was beginning to see her as a person, someone with more morality and humanness than she had witnessed in any of SHIELD’s employees. The Russian in front of her was beautiful and Maria couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed waking up to the blue eyes.

 _‘But am I actually attracted to her?’_ Maria thought to herself. _‘Or is it some kind of unconscious attachment because she’s here while I’m recovering?’_

“Maybe you could show me,” came the husky voice, as a cup of coffee was offered.

“I don’t play for anyone. I only ever played for him. It was the only thing we really had together,” Maria said sadly, “and my hands hurt.”

She had to supress a shiver as the redhead took her hands to examine the healing cuts that marred her knuckles and fingers. Maria looked away. She hated the scars she had, and the ones she would have she hated those even more. Natasha was close enough now that Maria could really spot the height difference between the two of them.

“Don’t be ashamed of them,” Natasha whispered.

“They’re a reminder,” she answered.

“Yes, that you’re strong. You survived,” and with that Natasha simply raised Maria’s hands and pressed a soft kiss to each. “You shouldn’t be ashamed.”

Maria simply watched, unable to speak as she watched the woman be remarkably kind to her. She was the first to break the eye contact though when the toaster popped up noisily and pulled her from her trance. Natasha looked away, maybe embarrassed, Maria couldn’t tell and picked up her coffee again. The immediate tension between them was broken but there was still an energy sitting there, growing until it exploded.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you, something I won’t find in a file,” Maria said, curious about the woman in front of her.

“Like what?” Natasha shrugged.

“Anything, something random. I barely know you, but I know I want to better.”

Natasha’s eyes tensed for a moment as she stared confused at Maria. “I’ve never been to a carnival. I actually hate spiders. My favourite colour is green. I like to cook.”

“You’re extremely well adjusted considering everything you’ve ever been through,” Maria commented.

“There is no such thing as normal,” Natasha countered, with a smile. “Humans are simply adaptive or maladaptive depending on the situation. With my training, I can adapt to new people, new places, new situations a lot easier. Maybe that’s why. Tell me something about you.”

Her voice was husky and gentle and Maria simply wanted to gravitate towards her. “I love spaghetti and orange and music and books and slow dancing. It’s simple and it’s easy to get lost in it and forget about this world for a while.”

“You get lost in spaghetti?” Natasha asked, with a straight face.

Maria laughed. It wasn’t a laugh that reached her eyes but it was the first one Natasha had heard in a week and she was the reason for it. She laughed too.

Their easy going discussion was interrupted by Natasha’s phone ringing on the arm of the couch where she had left it the night before. She smile apologetically.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Everything okay?” Maria asked around a mouth full of toast.

“Yeah. That was Fury. Doctor Pillicker wants to see you today for a check-up. And then Meyer wants to see you.”

Maria groaned. “I hate Meyer.”

“Everyone hates Meyer. He’s psych department, it comes with the territory,” she said. Meyer had deliberately held Natasha back several times from being clear for active duty after assignments before. She didn’t like him at all. “We better get ready.”

“Yeah,” said Maria, almost disappointed they had been interrupted and couldn’t continue their conversation.


	12. Chapter 12

The drive was silent and cold.

Natasha could tell that Maria was trying to keep herself calm. The check-up and psych debrief were routine but no one liked them. Maria had been present at many check-ups and had her fair share of debriefs but this was different. She had been targeted and tortured for a month, and Meyer loved to explore every possible option before clearing an agent. She would be no exception.

Natasha reached over the console for Maria’s hand, waiting for her passenger to take it. Without hesitation their fingers were linked immediately and she drove single-handed all the way back to the hospital.

Pillicker was more casual than Meyer would be. Maria tried her best to remain calm but she knew her façade was cracking. Natasha offered her a smile and a wink unnoticed by the doctor when she stepped out to give her privacy. Maria hadn’t shown Natasha any of her injuries with the exception of her back and her hands.

“Everything looks good,” he said, as Natasha entered the room. “Blood pressure is a little low, but that can be attributed to the lack of food you had access as well as the trauma you faced, not to mention the small portions you’re eating now that you’re home. Bruises are fading, and the burns are looking a lot better than what they were. You shoulder looks alright. Have you been sleeping on it?”

“No, it gets numb so I’ve tried to avoid it as much as I can,” Maria muttered.

Being in the hospital again was reminding her of everything she went through, and the idea of having to actively discuss it with a psychiatrist was terrifying her. Natasha could see the pain on her face beginning to show through. Pillicker finished up easily enough and left with a suggestion of increasing her diet slowly to three meals a day, and that he wanted her back in a week.

Natasha thanked him and the moment he was gone, she shut the curtain around the bed and turned to Maria. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe properly,” she said through shaky breaths. Maria had waited until the doctor had left, meaning that she didn’t want him to see her like this. She trusted Natasha.

“You’re having a panic attack,” she said, sitting on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked, as a hand snaked up the front of her top to rest just below her sternum.

“I’m calming you down. I want you to focus on pushing my hand out and pulling it in with your breaths okay?” Maria nodded and let herself lean into Natasha as she pushed the hand in and out. Her other hand was rubbing her back soothingly. “You’re okay, just breathe.”

It was a few minutes before her breathing settled entirely. “Sorry,” she said, reluctantly removing herself from against Natasha.

“Don’t apologise. Never apologise for that,” Natasha replied, as honestly as she had told Maria to never be ashamed. “Do you know what triggered it?”

“Meyer. I don’t want to go,” she whispered tearfully. “Please don’t make me go.”

Natasha almost went wide eyed at the idea that the woman next to her was desperately pleading her not to take her to a psych debrief appointment. There was a hand clenching at her jacket and refusing to let go. Every time before she was taken, Natasha had always witnessed the strength of this woman, who could run half a dozen operations, argue with Fury _and_ threaten a junior agent with death if he broke something on the helicarrier all at once. She could fight and shoot as well as any specialist and could win political debates. Maria Hill was a force to be reckoned with.

But now, Maria Hill was broken.

“Please don’t make me go. I can’t. Not yet. Please, Tasha.”

Natasha’s heart broke and she was torn. Maria needed to see Meyer, but at the same time she wanted to take the brunette home and let her sleep it off. Wait and try again later.

“Maria, look at me,” Natasha said, as the guilt set in and she hated herself. “You have to go.”

“I can't play that over in my head again, please.”

“What if I come in with you? I can keep you grounded while you talk to him,” Natasha suggested. She was bent at the hip and eye level with Maria, who still hadn’t let go of her jacket.

“I don’t want you to hear what they did to me,” she hiccupped.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?” Natasha just wanted her to understand. “You are strong. I don’t think any less of you after what you have gone through. You’re still amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?” Natasha chuckled at the question

“I think you’re a lot of things.” The red head swept a few stray hairs from Maria’s face, and brushed away a few of the tears.

“Please.”

“You have to go,” she repeated and she saw Maria slump, “but,” and her head snapped up, “maybe I can reschedule it. You’re in no state to be in a room with Meyer at the moment.”

“Really?” Maria looked so hopeful.

“Yes. Fury left you in my hands. I’m making the call.”

“Thank you,” came as a whisper, before she leaned forward and hugged Natasha.

For a moment she didn’t know what to do. She had never been very good at the comforting the friend thing but rubbed her back once the initial shock wore off.

“That’s okay,” she cupped Maria’s face, and her hand was leant into. “Let’s get you home. I think you need a grilled cheese sandwich and a nap.”

She had witnessed one of the strongest women she knows have a break down.

 _‘What did they do to you?’_ Natasha thought as she directed the woman towards the elevators with her hand against the small of her back.


	13. Chapter 13

The drive home was filled with an awkward silence and the occasional sniffle from the passenger seat.

Their hands were joined the same way they had been on the drive to the hospital; Maria didn’t want to let go but at the same time felt too ashamed to warrant having her hand held. Across the back of her hand, Natasha’s thumb was stroking back and forth soothingly for the entire drive. At red lights, she would wait for the brunette to lift her head from staring at her lap and offer her a gentle smile.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Maria,” Natasha said. She had parked her car and killed the engine a few minutes before and they had sat in silence in the warm interior.

“No one has ever seen me like that before. You’re the first,” she whispered. “I don’t like being seen when I break down.”

“Has it happened before?”

“A handful of times.”

Maria looked at their hands joined in her lap and found comfort in the fact that this simple gesture was keeping her calm. There was still a weight on her chest and on her shoulders pushing her down, but it was easier to keep standing now that their hands were joined.

“Would you tell me what happened over there?” Natasha asked quietly. When Maria’s head snapped up she thought the woman might have another panic attack, and immediately backpedalled. “Not right now. We can do anything other than talk about _that_ especially if you don’t want to, but before your appointment with Meyer maybe telling me first might help you be able to talk to him.”

“Can I think about?” Maria asked hesitantly.

“Of course. I’m not going to push you to tell me if you don’t want to. But the offer is there,” Natasha smiled and gave Maria’s hand a squeeze.

“Can we just sit on the couch for a while, and watch trashy daytime TV or talk or something?”

“Sure.”

Natasha hopped out of the car quickly and ran to the other side to help Maria out before guiding her into the apartment building with a hand on the small of her back. The brunette leaned into the warm body next to her as they rode the elevator up to the top floor. Both women changed into comfier clothes the moment they were inside before settling on the couch.

“Come here,” Natasha whispered. Having their fingers tangled didn’t seem like enough to comfort the woman who had been distraught barely half an hour ago. She was holding her arm out for Maria to curl into her side, who did not hesitate to tuck her legs under herself and couldn’t help but relax into the arm around her back.

She felt safe.

“I can’t sit in silence,” Maria muttered into Natasha’s neck. “What kind of things do you like to cook?”

Natasha smiled gently and thought. “I like trying new recipes, but I have some basic meals I like to make. Baked salmon, a lot of Italian food like all the pasta dishes. I like Italian food. I like to bake sometimes too, cookies are my specialty. Are you going to eat some lunch?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Maria answered.

“If I made spaghetti for dinner would you eat some? You said it was your favourite,” Natasha teased softly.

“Maybe a little bit. You would do that?”

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed and winked when the brunette looked up. “I haven’t had spaghetti in a while.”

Maria’s hand came to rest on Natasha’s stomach. Natasha smiled and relished in the intimacy of the situation. She didn’t want to move.

“Your turn. You ask something,” Maria prompted.

“You want to play twenty questions?” the redhead joked. She could see the woman next to her beginning to relax and forget about her earlier breakdown. Natasha wanted to be the reason for that despite the high probability that

“I want to continue our conversation from breakfast,” she answered. “It was nice being able to be so relaxed, calm and casual. It’s nice talking to you, getting to know you.”

“It’s nice getting to know you too,” Natasha whispered. “Um, okay. What kind of music do you like?”

“All kinds. I love classical. Comes from all those years of playing piano,” Maria answered with a reminiscent smile. “Old school rock, a little bit of country, there are recent songs that I like, a few that I love.”

“How old were you when your grandfather taught you to play?”

“I think I was six. It was the summer after my first year of school.”

“Why slow dancing?”

Maria’s smile dropped slightly. “He taught me that too. He used to take my grandmother out once a week for dancing right up until she died before I started middle school. After that he used to take me every week.”

“You were close?” Natasha asked, letting her hand float back and forth over Maria’s ribs.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I got along with him better than I did with my parents. Going with him was the favourite part of my week.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of them as they sat closely together, watching the TV. Natasha snatched the remote off the cushion next to her and flicked through the channels until she found what she was looking for: the classical music channel.

“Show me,” she said, removing herself from the couch to stand up.

“What?” Maria asked, suddenly curious and nervous at the same time as Natasha pushed the coffee table towards the TV to make room.

“Something else you won’t find in a file about me: I’ve never slow danced before,” she smiled. She held her hand out. “Show me?”

Her voice was gentle and the smile on her face was genuinely kind.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve danced with anyone,” Maria admitted, reaching out to taking Natasha’s offered hand.

“I won’t judge you if you step on my toes.” Natasha smirked as she pulled Maria up. “But you may have to teach me a few things.”

“Okay,” Maria chuckled. “Put your hand on my waist, just like that. And our hands sit together like this. And we have to stand a little closer.”

Natasha followed the instructions easily enough and fought hard to keep the smirk off her face as Maria’s hand settled on her shoulder. She drew Maria in closer with the arm around her waist, careful to avoid the covered burns beneath her top.

“What next?” Natasha smiled.

“You literally just rock back and forth, sway on the spot. Easiest kind of dancing there is,” she answered quietly.

Natasha watched Maria closely. She couldn’t stop herself from studying Maria’s face, her eyes gazing at the lips in front of her. She drew the brunette in a little closer to press their bodies closer together with a smile as they continued to sway. Maria bit her bottom lip and Natasha almost had to supress a groan. The brunette could not only feel the tension between the two of them, she could see the tension on Natasha’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure I should say,” Natasha replied.

“Tell me. Please?”

They stopped swaying just as the song stopped.

“I, uh…” Natasha gulped. “I really want to kiss you.”

Maria wore a genuine look of surprise. She had managed to convince herself over the course of the day that it was one sided on her part, simply because of her trauma she was recovering from and the fact that Natasha was the one there with her. She pressed her forehead to Natasha’s.

"You do?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly. Maria brushed away a stray part of Natasha’s vibrant red hair that had escaped her pony tail.

Slowly they inched closer to one another, until they could feel the others breath on their lips.

There was a knock at the door.


	14. Chapter 14

“Why did you miss your appointment with Meyer?” Fury asked. He had been in Maria’s apartment for less than thirty seconds before he started asking questions.

Natasha had opened the door and deliberately placed herself between the two.

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Natasha answered. Her body language had gone from being relaxed and maybe a little nervous with Maria to being the on guard soldier and spy.

“But well enough to go to a check-up?”

“Yes, that’s why Doctors exist. So that one can visit an MD when they’re not feeling well,” Natasha answered sarcastically. Fury was glaring at her with his hands on his hips and she simply countered him with her arms folded and her trademark smirk in place. “You put me in charge of protecting her. I made the call. Deal with it.”

“Deal with it?” Fury asked. “She is my Deputy Director. I need her back as soon as possible.”

“Don’t be naïve. It’s not as if she’s had two days off with a cold,” Natasha answered. “You can’t force a recovery from this kind of trauma. More specifically you can force a fast recovery.”

Maria stood behind her, silent and still, watching and waiting. Since coming home, this was the first time she had been even relatively involved in a conversation with anyone other than Natasha. If she was ever going to be in this position, she was glad that it was Natasha who was on her side. And she wanted to damn Fury for interrupting. She almost let out a heavy sigh when she heard Natasha’s reasoning for missing the appointment, but refrained, glad that her breakdown wasn’t being flashed around.

“I know that.”

“Then accept the call I made. The appointment has been rescheduled. What is your problem?”

“She needs to be debriefed. If she is going to recover fully from this, she needs to see psych. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t there?”

“It wasn’t about whether or not you noticed: she wasn’t feeling well. But seeing as how we are on that topic, why don’t we discuss that surveillance van you’ve had parked across the street for a week? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Natasha asked. She could tell, even without looking, that Maria’s brow had furrowed in confusion: the assassin had never mentioned that she had noticed a surveillance van watching them. “You really don’t trust me enough to work this protection detail alone?”

 _‘What kind of equipment do they have?’_ Maria thought. _‘Audio? Video? Have they seen or heard everything that has been going on?’_

“They are your back up,” Fury started, knowing he had been caught out.

“Back up I didn’t even know I had,” snapped Natasha. “If something goes down, and I need to play something a specific way, I cannot have them barging in unannounced and screwing it up. Just because I have a badge with “Agent of SHIELD” on it, does not necessarily mean that every member of this organisation will automatically trust me to stay on SHIELD’s side if shit goes sideways.”

Fury sighed and Natasha glared and Maria shifted from side to side uncomfortably.

The brunette couldn’t help but start to second guess herself and her decisions. Natasha was able to flip a situation ten different ways from Sunday in an instant, and she couldn’t stop herself from wondering if she was ‘playing’ a role again, if she was being who she thought she had to be around Maria, not who she wanted to be.

“All they are doing is sitting in that van watching the exterior of this building,” he said, as if it made the entire situation better.

“I don’t care. If you trust me to do my job,” Natasha said, “you will pull them off my assignment. Now.”

 _‘I’m just another assignment to her,’_ Maria thought.

“Fine, they’re gone.” Fury pulled his phone out, crunched a few letters and tucked it back into his jacket. Natasha moved to the window and watched the van break into light traffic and head off up the street out of view. “I want her in that appointment.”

“I am standing right here, you know?” she muttered. Her arms were protectively crossed over her chest and Natasha felt a slight pang of guilt. “If you’re going to talk about me, at least do it to my face.”

Fury seemed to have the same reaction as Natasha, blinking in dazed recognition at the brunette looking at him with tired eyes.

“I want you in that appointment. No rescheduling,” he ordered. Out of pure habit, Maria’s spine straightened because first and foremost she was a soldier.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled quietly.

He turned around and walked out, slamming the door loud enough to make Maria flinch. Heavy silence made itself known over the two women as they stared after him.

“Maria, I’m sorry,” Natasha started.

“I need a shower,” was the reply, and the brunette turned for the stairs leaving Natasha alone to be angry at herself.


	15. Chapter 15

It was almost an hour before Natasha saw any sign of Maria.

She kept telling herself that she would give the woman five more minutes, before she went to look for her. When the five minutes was up, she decided for another five minute wait. Natasha had a control over the way her fears could intimidate her, except when it came to the brunette upstairs. She was scared to seek the woman out yet at the same time, scared not to.

Another five minutes had passed before she cursed herself in Russian and almost bound up the stairs, two at a time.

“Maria?” she called out softly into the brunette’s bedroom.

As she entered the room, she saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to the door, wearing only sweat pants with a towel covering her chest. Next to her was the antibiotic cream, gauze coverings and her top. Quietly, Natasha moved towards the bed and picked up the cream. After every shower, the two of them sat on the edge of the bed and gone through the process.

Today would be no different. She touched Maria’s shoulder gently as to not spook her and when she didn’t get a reaction went about applying the cream and gauze.

“Am I just your assignment?” Maria asked, when Natasha had come back from the bathroom from washing her hands while she finished getting dressed.

“You’re not _just_ my assignment,” she answered huskily, making her way back towards Maria. “I meant what I said just before Fury interrupted.”

“Are you playing me?”

“No. I am not manipulating you, I am not trying to control you, and I am not lying to you.”

“You knew about the van.”

“I didn’t want to worry you or scare you until I knew who it was. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Natasha could see the brunette processing her answers, and could only hope that she would believe her. “Maria, I meant what I said.”

“Why can I feel a ‘but’ about follow on from that?” she asked, her gaze still on the floor.

“But,” Natasha conceded, “I don’t want to lead you on while you’re recovering. I don’t want you to get attached and rely on that, because if something goes wrong you might end up hurting again. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Blue eyes finally met brown. “I thought the same thing this morning when I woke up and saw you watching me. I might get attached because of my fractured mental state and then struggle to function independently without you. The thing is I know that you wouldn’t me in a position where I can’t heal as an individual, who isn’t attached to someone and relates that person to feeling okay. You’re too careful for that, which is I believe you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You do remember that I am a deeply scarred master assassin and spy, right?”

Maria snorted. “Yeah, I remember. But guess what?”

“What?” asked Natasha. She could feel Maria getting that little bit closer every time she spoke. Natasha was nervous.

“I still want you to kiss me.”

Natasha couldn’t supress the shiver that went all the way to her toes when Maria’s hand brushed across her lower back as the brunette left the room. She was a little confused.

_‘Despite my history and the fact that she is recovering physically, emotionally and mentally from a heavy trauma, as well as being aware of the possibility of attachment that relies on me for a balanced mental state because of her recovery, she still wants me?’_

All the way back down into the lounge room, Natasha debated against herself. There have been studies that show a positive recovery as a result of support and loving relationships. But there was no way she was capable of a loving relationship, not with all the red in her ledger and there was no way in hell she was deserving of it from anyone.

Maria was sitting in her spot on the couch, where she had been before Natasha had asked her to dance, looking oddly lonely without the redhead next to her.

“Are you going to join me or not?”

Natasha smiled gently, trying not to let it turn into a smirk and let herself drop onto the couch next to Maria. She wondered where the brunette was getting her confidence from considering that just this morning she had a breakdown over fearing having to relive her torture in a debrief. Instead of wrapping her arm around the woman to her left, she instead twined their fingers together and sighed contently when Maria’s head dropped to her shoulder.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

“Me either,” answered Maria. “This is nice.”

“It’s kind of perfect.”


	16. Chapter 16

Maria was the first to wake the following morning.

It was the second night in a row she had managed to sleep almost the whole way through, waking only once compared to three or four times a night. Her nose was itchy from the few stray strands of hair that had escaped Natasha’s pony tail during the night. The brunette shifted minutely and enjoyed the sensation she got from feeling Natasha’s back against her front and remembered the night before.

True to her word, Natasha had made spaghetti for dinner and Maria had joked about putting in a requisition form for her to make this at least once a week, even once the protection detail was over. Natasha simply laughed, winked and cleared the table once they had finished. Together they had done the dishes and put them away, a simple task to waste time until bed.

Small talk about languages and favourite places and Maria’s family had filled the silence and Maria had curled into her side again, her hand resting on top of Natasha’s thigh and her face hidden in the nape of her neck. Until she yawned and Natasha insisted they go to bed. Maria had only agreed with a pleading smile if she wasn’t alone.

She had drifted off to sleep with Natasha brushing her hair out of her face and had woken up find herself as the big spoon wrapped around a sleeping assassin.

Sleepily, Maria tightened her arm around Natasha and burrowed back down into the covers content to simply enjoy the feeling until the other woman woke up.

Before long, the redhead was stretching and rolling over to face Maria.

“Good morning,” she muttered, eyes still half closed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to Maria’s.

Although taken by surprise by the kiss, Maria didn’t not object and kissed her back. Natasha pulled back, her eyelids snapping open as she realised what she had just done.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Huh?” Maria muttered, her eyes still closed.

“I’m sorry.”

When Maria realised that the redhead was beginning to panic slightly, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. “Why?”

“I kind of wanted to be a bit smoother when I kissed you for the first time, be a bit more aware as opposed to being half asleep. I’m sorry.”

Maria chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. It was nice. It felt normal and easy. It felt more normal than I have in the past month and a half.”

Natasha’s dark eyes shifted from panicked to calmer as she rested her head in her hand. “You don’t mind that our first kiss was kind of an accident?”

“No,” she answered. “And I don’t think it was an accident. I liked it.”

“Really?” Natasha smirked, silently proud.

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you again?” she asked.

“Yes,” Maria nodded with a smile and leaned in at the same time as Natasha.

Maria could feel the hypersensitivity emanating from her body; she could feel every inch of her that was touching Natasha with surreal sensation.

Natasha, despite the smirk of confidence she had showed, was secretly nervous all of a sudden; she really liked Maria but didn’t want to get carried away and end up hurting her.

Their lips met gently for a few seconds before they pulled back, both with smiles on their faces. Without needing another prompt, the met in the middle again and slowly the kiss intensified. Natasha held back from pushing past anything other than her hand on Maria’s hip. The brunette’s tongue snuck out, seeking out Natasha’s to deepen the kiss and they didn’t part until the need for air became apparent.

Slightly out of breath, Natasha could simply lean her forehead against Maria’s. “Wow.”

“Wow?” came back as a breathless whisper.

“Yeah. It’s no secret that I’ve kissed a lot of people. But kissing you, and as dorky and cheesy as this sounds, literally made me see stars,” Natasha explained. “I don’t think I ever want to stop.”

“Good,” Maria muttered. “I don’t think I want you too.”


	17. Chapter 17

For three days, it was nothing but the honeymoon stage for the two women.

Maria still napped during the day when she was tired but on occasional Natasha joined her on the couch, unable to say no to an afternoon sleep. Silently, the assassin had spent her nights watching Maria sleep, watching the peace settle on her face. When she was asleep and was settled next to Natasha, there was no way for her demons to get to her. Natasha kind of liked that she had the ability to do that for Maria.

Usually, the redhead thought of herself to be realistic in nature and that she was an extremely good judge of character. She found it odd thought that someone, no matter how open minded they might be to the gruesome and hidden workings of the world, might honestly and openly want her even with her history.

But when Maria began to toss and turn lightly next to her under the beginning of a nightmare, Natasha found that she had to share a piece of her past that she would rather forget about permanently.

“Maria, wake up,” Natasha said loudly enough for the brunette to hear her.

With a small gentle shake, she sat bolt upright to take in her surroundings. Her bottom lip was between her teeth in an effort to control herself, to keep her in the moment the same way a pinch works when you think you’re dreaming.

With soft eyes, Natasha asked if she was okay. Her eyes were slightly glassy as she calmed herself down and gave an answering nod.

“You’re beautiful when you wake up,” the redhead muttered. Maria’s hair was quite dishevelled but somehow it suited her just as much, if not more than the professional bun she usually wore at work.

“You’re full of it,” Maria chuckled, letting herself slip into Natasha’s arms. One came to rest across her back and over her ribs while the other simply laced together with Maria’s.

A kiss was pressed to her hairline, and she almost moaned in comfort. “Do you want to tell me about it? The dream?”

“Will you tell me about one of your scars?” Maria asked, looking up from her resting spot in the crook of Natasha’s neck.

There was a seat of silence that joined them as Natasha searched the brown eyes out of curiosity, wondering what she was looking for or what she wanted to hear. Deeply and softly, she pressed her lips to Maria’s. “Will it help?”

“Maybe,” she answered. Natasha knew that even if she did share a part of her past with the woman in front of her there was no guarantee that she would be able to tell her anything about what happened in that cave for thirty-two days.

“Okay,” Natasha agreed. But she couldn’t tell a story like this and be within such close proximity to Maria, so she had to disentangle herself from the other woman to sit cross-legged next to her instead. She rubbed the palms of her hands with her thumbs strongly as she tried to figure out where to begin, resulting in several false starts before she could properly form a sentence.

“In my SHIELD Personnel File, under ‘identifying marks’ it’s noted that I don’t have any fingerprints.” Maria nodded, having read that file several times before and watched as Natasha raised her hands to show the missing fingerprints. “In order to be a Black Widow, you have to be able to become invisible. I have no idea how old I was when it happened; we were ranked by ability not age. I’d been under Red Room’s instruction for a quite a few years when they decided it was time I had to learn how to become invisible. So they removed my fingerprints.

“I had to sit there in silence for days as they took away one of the easiest ways to identify who I was. If I so much as blinked or flinched they would make sure it hurt more than it did. It was almost like I had Stockholm Syndrome. I didn’t know any better, I couldn’t remember anything from before I was taken. Being in that position, I wanted nothing more than to please them so I did everything I could to stop myself from moving an inch.” She could see Maria staring at her. “Like I said, I have scars too.”

Maria was sullenly silent as she watched Natasha. She reached forward for the fidgeting hands in front of her to inspect them before pressing a kiss to each one. Natasha smiled sadly and when it looked like Maria was about to ask how they did it, she answered before she could get a word out.

“To this day, I hate the sound of a blow torch.” Maria shivered unwillingly and couldn’t stop the sharp inhale of breath. “What is it?”

“I hate that sound too,” she whispered. “My dream was a reply of what happened in the cave.”

“Tell me?”

“I could never tell when the pain was going to start,” she said. “I was sitting backwards on a chair, tied to it and without a shirt. I couldn’t see anything but I could hear them asking questions behind me. ‘Tell me about SHIELD protocol’, ‘Tell me about SHIELDS weapon systems’, all that kind of stuff. But I wouldn’t tell them anything.

“I heard the blow torch start up, and even though I can be a hardarse in front of all the junior agents or on the Helicarrier or even when I have to deal with politicians, it scared the absolute crap out of me. I was terrified,” she whispered. Natasha could see the tears beginning to well up as her voice started to break. “I couldn’t do anything other than wait, wait for them to start. And that was the worst part. Waiting. When I wouldn’t tell them anything, they would burn me. And all I could do was wait for it. It was almost like I could feel my skin melting. Even in my dreams I can still feel it.

“It happened every few days; let the burns start healing or infection to settle in before they started again.”

“The scars on your back?”

“Yeah. I was terrified, Tasha,” she mumbled through tears. Natasha realised that this wasn’t just her dream that she was talking about, because they can manifest in any number of ways after trauma. This was the trauma that she went through.

“Come here, you’re okay,” Natasha said, pulling Maria into her lap. “You’re okay. You’re healing. It’s not an overnight job or an easy journey, but you are healing. And I’m here. I’m sorry that happened to you. Thanks you for telling me. You’re brave. So so brave.”

“How am I brave?”

“You survived,” Natasha whispered, kissing Maria again softly. “You’re beautiful and brave and strong and courageous and a hard worker. You’re amazing, Maria.”

She kissed Maria again, who willingly kissed her back. “You think so?”

They sat together and made themselves comfortable for morning spent in bed: it was still quite early. “I know so.”


	18. Chapter 18

Since their discussion earlier, Natasha had done whatever she could to steer Maria’s thoughts away from anything scar related.

It had taken them a few hours but eventually they had dragged themselves out of bed for a very late breakfast when Maria’s stomach had grumbled unhappily in need of food. As usual, she drummed her fingers across the top of the piano on her way to the kitchen. Behind her Natasha flicked the TV on for the gentle hum of the music channel to avoid the silence. Neither of them could handle it very well.

“Holy shit your hands are cold!” Maria froze in front of the coffee machine before scrambling to get out from underneath Natasha’s hands. Natasha had come up behind her without any warning to rest her hands on Maria’s waist, just under her top.

The redhead was smirking from her newly acquired seat on the kitchen counter. “You’re adorable.”

“That was mean,” she said, making her way back to her coffee cautiously.

Natasha was a good four inches shorter than her but the height she gained by sitting on the bench helped when she reached out with her feet to pull Maria in.

“Let me make it up to you,” she muttered huskily against Maria’s lips who did not protest.

So far they had simply tested the waters, finding what was comfortable for the two of them which had been not much more than kissing. Natasha understood Maria’s mentally was in a state of limbo; she knew what she was comfortable with but the fresh experience of long-term torture made her question what she was willing to try and thought she could handle. As a master of being able to read people and know how to react in order to elicit the right emotions and answers she wanted, Natasha took her cues from Maria’s responses but still didn’t try to push her away by pushing too hard, too fast.

Pulling her in with her feet didn’t push any boundaries and Natasha was more than willing to do that as often as she could.

This time when the toaster popped, neither of them pulled away out of surprise. Instead Maria deepened the kiss slightly before parting with a small sigh of sadness.

“What’s going to happen when the protection detail is over?” she asked.

Natasha leaned in, letting her arms wrap around Maria’s shoulders. “Whatever you want.”

“What if I want you?”

“Then you get me. I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work,” Natasha smiled. She paused. “You really want me?”

“What do you mean?”

“With everything that I am, with as fucked up as I can be, the bits you haven’t seen but only heard about, with my history and what I do for an income, you really want me?”

Maria smiled gently, “yes. You’re nothing like what I thought you would be like, what I thought you were. You have this sense of humanity about you that is beautiful despite everything you’ve gone through. I want you, Tasha.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

“I’m going to take you on a date after this protection detail is over.” Maria simply beamed and Natasha kissed her soundly with a smile. “Okay. You should eat your toast before it goes cold. I need a shower.”

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast?” Maria asked, a piece of buttered toast halfway to her mouth.

Natasha commandeered the slice to her own mouth for a bite before dropping from the counter with a smirk and heading back up the stairs. For the purpose of not wanting to leave Maria alone too long, Natasha declared that it would be a short shower.

With the gentle hum of the music channel in the background, Maria let herself lean against the sink as she finished her coffee and toast. Her mind drifted slowly and anyone looking from the outside would see her as having zoned out. Now that there was nothing to specifically to distract her, like the feeling of Natasha next to her, Maria couldn’t stop her mind from sinking back into her month in captivity, her rescue, the uncomfortable beginning of the protection detail and then the transformation into whatever it was that they were.

They had yet to define themselves and for now that was fine.

It was late morning, and the sun was surprisingly out for a rare appearance.

It was the middle of week and the street outside was humming with activity. As a truck rolled down the street, the side panels caught the suns reflection and sent a flash of light into the apartment.

Unable to stop the automatic shudder and flinch, Maria had a flashback to one of the first times her captors started the blow torch. The coffee cup slipped from her hands, dropping to the floor to smash into pieces, the last of the hot drink spilling over her feet and the floor.

She didn’t scream, only jumped when the mug hit the floorboards.

When she picked moved to pick up the biggest piece, cursing herself for jumping, Maria wasn’t watching and cut her hand.

This time she screamed but only out of pure reflex. Within seconds she could hear footsteps hurrying across the landing upstairs.

“Ahhh,” she groaned as she slid her bleeding palm under the cold stream of water in the tap. “Be careful. I dropped my coffee mug. It went everywhere. Ow.”

Natasha’s hair was wet and pulled up haphazardly into a pony tail, and there were the odd droplets across her pale skin. She was wearing a sports bra and carrying her t-shirt in her hand. Maria was pretty sure that those were her sweat pants but she wasn’t complaining because the sight of the woman in front of her was distracting her from the pain in her hand.

She gulped and was brought back when her hand shifted, catching the stream of water at a different angle.

“What happened?” Natasha asked, tiptoed through the kitchen over the debris to inspect her hand. Maria explained and cursed herself again. “Stop. It was an accident and you couldn’t help it. Maria, it was an accident. It’s just a cup.”

“That’s what I feel like,” Maria whispered.

Natasha’s heart clenched. “Baby, you’re not broken.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. You are not broken, just bent. But we will get you back to where you were.” Maria simply nodded and glared at her hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can you at least put a shirt on? You’re beautifully distracting,” the brunette muttered, her eyes drifting from her hand to the redhead’s body.

“Well in that case I think I might leave it off for a little longer.” Natasha smirked and pulled Maria up towards the bathroom. “At least while I clean you up.”

“Maybe you can leave it off for a little longer,” Maria whispered against Natasha’s lips, when the redhead had finished wrapping her hand with gauze and had moved to finally slip her top on.

Natasha could see a curious fire beginning to spark in Maria’s eyes as they grew dark. There was a moan into their kiss and Natasha could feel hands settle themselves on her back and pulled her closer. She let herself be directed back to the bedroom, and could hear the voice in the back of her head telling her that this was a bad idea. But it wasn’t until she landed on her back on the bed and Maria had already settled on her lap that she spoke up.

“We should stop,” she whispered breathless.

Maria could feel a weight beginning to pool and pull beneath her stomach, and all of a sudden she wasn’t sure that she could stop but at the same time she wasn’t sure that she couldn’t keep going.

She pulled back to sit back on Natasha’s thighs. “You don’t want this?”

“Believe me, I do. I want it a lot,” Natasha whispered, sitting up and pressing her lips to Maria’s once more. Hands settled on her shoulders while her own drifted to Maria’s waist holding her in place on her lap. Admittedly it was a comfortable feeling.

“But?”

“I don’t want to push you until you’re comfortable with your body, or think it’s what you should do.”

Silence settled over them while neither moved.

“Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?”

“That what happened to me will get in the way of me being able to do things, like…..this?” she motioned between the two them.

“Not forever, just while you’re healing. And believe me, I really want you.” Natasha kissed her, before making a suggestion. “We can still make out though.”

Maria chuckled and happily pressed her lips to Natasha’s.


	19. Chapter 19

Two days since their talk found them on the couch definitely pushing the sex boundary they had set; Natasha had settled herself over Maria gently and was now kissing her way down Maria’s neck, enjoying that sharp tug at her hair.

Most of their morning so far had been spent in the same position on the couch, the only thing changing was the pace of their kissing. They had not managed much sleep the night before; at 3 am, Maria had woken from a nightmare thrashing beneath the covers and almost managing to clock Natasha across the side of the head. Natasha hated that she had nightmares, but had never been scared that she might hurt herself because of them until then.

Maria smirked into a kiss and pulled the redhead in closer, if that was even possible at this point.

There was a groan of disappointment, neither were sure who it came from, when Natasha’s phone rang, and she groped over the edge of the couch to find it.

“Romanov,” she answered, trying very hard to slow her breathing down and not paying attention to the caller ID on her phone.

“You, Hill. Airfield, now,” came the four word reply with Fury’s voice

“Sir?” she asked in slight confusion. Maria was looking up at her, almost impatiently waiting for the call to end.

“We have a suspect in custody, possible faction leader or head of their interrogation.”

Natasha had to push herself up in order to focus; her proximity to Maria was literally clouding her brain and her ability to do her job. “The ones responsible for kidnapping AD Hill?”

“Yes. We need her to identify him.”

“You can’t send a photo?”

“Psych department thinks that there is a higher chance of her getting the answer right if it’s in person. Airfield, ASAP.”

And with that he hung up the phone, leaving the dial tone ringing in her ear.

“What’s going on?” Maria whispered.

“I think the protection detail might be coming to an end.” Natasha looked down at the brunette with a sigh of sadness. Neither of them wanted to be separated from the other. “Fury needs you at the Airfield to possibly identify one of your captors. I, uhh, didn’t want this to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Maria whispered, sitting up to kiss Natasha gently before letting a smirk grace her lips. “We will figure it out. Besides, I have absolutely no issue with you staying over whenever you want.”

“Oh really?”

“Really, really.”

Natasha grinned. “We should get dressed. You have you appointment with Meyer after we visit the Airfield.”

Maria had visibly paled slightly at the thought but managed to regain her composure relatively easily. They had talked the night before about the appointment, knowing it was coming the following day and discussed Maria’s conclusions about how she had been affected rather than the details of what happened to her.

She still had at least another week of medical leave before Pillicker was willing to sign off on a return to field duty, but he had conceded to allow her back into the office at least to give her something to do and keep her busy outside of her physical therapy and sparring sessions that would start the following Monday.

Unfortunately, it was Meyer that would have the ultimate say in whether or not she was allowed to return to field duty at all; any mental instability would not be tolerated by human resources because it was a risk to everyone involved.

“You’ll be okay.” Natasha knew the thought of reliving the trauma was terrifying for Maria, but had promised that afterwards that they could do whatever Maria wanted if it could help. “I need to check your back before we go anywhere though.”

Once they were upstairs, as per their usual routine, Natasha busied herself in the bathroom collecting the antibiotic cream and gauze while Maria stripped her top half and covered her front with a towel.

However when she returned, Maria was not sitting on the bed with her bare back facing Natasha waiting patiently.

She was in fact standing in her jeans and a bra, facing the doorway. Natasha couldn’t help the slight smirk that settled on her face as she took in the sight. “Well damn.”

“What?” Maria asked nervously. She looked down at her chest and stomach; she had some burns across her front as well and was more critical of these purely because she could see them more easily than the ones on her back.

Natasha’s eyes grazed the body in front of her as she walked towards her……her Maria. “You’re beautiful.”

Maria scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

“I’m serious,” she repeated, her hands settling on Maria’s bare hips. The brunette shivered and Natasha had yet to break eye contact after her initial appreciative glace at Maria’s body. “You’re gorgeous, even with your burns.”

Maria fidgeted. She was getting uncomfortable with the attention. Natasha simply turned her around and got to work, checking the wounds that were healing nice and cleanly according to Pillicker.

“Thank you for showing me,” she whispered.

“That’s okay.” She was quiet and subdued as Natasha finished, as Maria got dressed and as they made their way out to Natasha’s car for the drive.

“You’re beautiful,” Natasha repeated, once they had stopped at a red light. She leaned over the console with their hands traditionally linked, and pressed a kiss to Maria’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

Maria simply nodded. “Just nervous…..and scared.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“I’m counting on it to get me through this,” Maria admitted. “You’ve ended up being this….strength that’s helping me get through the day, the nightmares, even talking about it or thinking about. I can breathe a bit easier when you’re around; I don’t think I can let you go just yet.”

“Well then I’m not going anywhere.” Natasha smiled and kissed her again. A horn honked behind them.

Natasha put her foot down.


	20. Chapter 20

The Airfield was not the traditional kind of airfield.

It was twenty five thousand feet in the air; a smaller version of the Helicarrier with a landing only big enough for a quinjet. It was a holding station for all SHIELD prisoners, a processing centre for enemies to determine where they would go.

For Maria and Natasha, it was a ten minute drive and a thirty minute flight full of nerves and growing frustration. Natasha was silently hoping for a confirmation that he was involved, so she could at least have a go at him simply being an accomplice to Maria’s kidnapping and torture.

Maria didn’t want to go.

They were back in the company of other SHIELD agents who knew both of their faces very well. Until the two of them could put a name to what they were or even talk to Fury about the dozen fraternization rules they were breaking, both women had to maintain the relatively cold exteriors they were known for.

Natasha had her arms crossed for the entire flight in an effort to keep her hands to herself; if she could, her fingers would have been linked with her… her Maria’s at least to keep her calm.

In the last few days, Maria was beginning to gain a sense of control over her emotions and her fears despite being affected by the nightmares that still woke her up. This was her first big real test of facing her demons at least in person. Her façade was holding for now, but she was worried that she was going to crack.

Every now and then there was a small smile, a silent craving of wanting to reach out.

When they arrived, Natasha reverted back into her protective detail persona, guiding Maria inside with a hand on the small of her back. It was the closest thing they were going to get to any form of physical contact for a few hours, so Maria relished in the feeling.

Fury was waiting just inside the corridor where their prisoner was being held, with Coulson and Barton both behind him. Coulson offered his usual gentle smile.

“Nice to see you up,” he said. Maria returned the gesture although she was showing just how tired she was.

Natasha met Barton’s eyes over Fury’s shoulder and even though it was the subtlest of differences the redhead picked up on the miniscule eyebrow raise from the archer.

She glared at him into silence; he was slowly breaking down the hard exterior shell that she had built enough to be able to have a few laughs. They were occasionally at her expense but he no longer feared for his life when he pranked her.

“You two stay here,” said Fury, “Coulson, Hill, with me. He’s down in three-oh-two.”

Natasha was about to argue but thought better of it at the glare she received from Fury, and took her post next to Barton.

He automatically couldn’t stop the smirk. “Where have you been?”

She rolled her eyes. Natasha knew this was coming and comic book collection would be her first target. “Protection detail.”

“Playing house with Hill huh? That’s hot,” he chuckled.

“Not a word out of you. Perve. And as if you weren’t playing house with Coulson in New Mexico, and you’re not stupid enough to think I don’t know about it.”

His smile dropped. “How did you know about that?”

“You just told me,” she smirked.

His head dropped with a smile and Natasha’s mind went down the hallway with Maria.

The brunette was directed into the viewing room, her gaze was avoiding looking through the two way mirror and into the interrogation room. She heard Melinda May’s voice before she laid eyes on the woman. Her eyes didn’t want to look up but Maria knew that the few long seconds of silence were too long for Fury’s liking and she lifted her gaze.

“Know him?” asked Fury.

Her burns stung and her shoulder ached at the sight of the man who was cuffed to the floor and sitting in a steel chair in the middle of the room.

“Interrogator, not leader,” Maria whispered. She shivered and removed herself from the room as fast as she could, mumbling about her appointment with Meyer in an hour.

When she rounded the corner back into the long corridor, she could see Natasha waiting for her with a smile. She was talking to Barton about who was doing the interrogation on the guy without taking her eyes off the brunette, because she’d love to take a shot.

“It’s May. Fury wanted his best interrogator.”

“Nice choice,” Natasha muttered. “Was it him?”

Maria shook her head. “Just the interrogator.”

Natasha placed her hand on the small of Maria’s back and led her back towards the quinjet.

“Looks like this protection detail isn’t over just yet.”

Both women were glad. After the emotional rollercoaster this Thursday was putting Maria through, she was going to need Natasha just to get her through the night.


	21. Chapter 21

They were left to find their own way to the hospital once the quinjet had returned them to base.

Maria’s brow was furrowed for the entire drive, and occasionally Natasha would glance at her. She hadn’t said a word during the flight back, simply reaching for Natasha’s hand once they were inside her car and sat in silence. There was a wall that had been put up and the redhead was finding a little hard to read her; she was either fading into her memories or steeling herself for the hour long session with Meyer.

“Hey,” Natasha whispered with a gentle tug on Maria’s hand. Slowly the brunette turned to face her. There was a flicker of panic and fear, of exhaustion, of growing numbness, and the internal struggle of holding herself together was evident in her eyes. “You okay?”

Maria shrugged tiredly. “’m exhausted.”

“Baby, come here.” As best she could, Natasha wrapped her arms around Maria over the car’s centre console, and felt hands grip her jacket tightly right between her shoulder blades. “I got you.”

They sat there in the hospital parking lot for what seemed like forever. Maria didn’t want to let go. Her anchor was holding her up and holding her together, and she was trying to draw as much energy as she could from the woman to make it through an hour of psych debriefing. She sniffed as she pulled back. “Sorry.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to apologise for that?” Natasha said with a soft smile. “Let me see your hands.”

Maria refrained from frowning and let Natasha see her palms. There were several half-moon shapes cut into her hand, and there was a patch of fresh blood on the gauze that was covering her cut from breakfast. She had had her fists clenched since they got into the quinjet, and hadn’t stopped because it was the only way she could control herself if Natasha wasn’t there or couldn’t touch her. Lips were pressed to the soft bruises.

“Are you going to be okay to get through your session?” she whispered. Maria had pressed their foreheads together with a heavy sigh.

“As long as you promise you’ll be there waiting for me to finish. And that we can go home, and do nothing. I feel like I need to sleep for a month.”

“We can do that,” muttered Natasha. “We can do whatever you want.”

“We should go,” Maria whispered back. “You know he hates to start late.”

She moved to let go of the redhead and leave the car, but a hand gripping the waist of her jacket held her in her seat. When Maria looked at Natasha, ready to ask her what was going on, she was silenced before she could say a word as lips were pressed against hers and the brunette all but melted into the kiss.

A hand cupped Natasha’s cheek and held her close.

“Just remember to breathe. You’ll be okay. I’ll be waiting for you, okay?”

Maria nodded and kissed her again, and pushed herself out of the car.

Meyer’s office was on the fifth floor of the east building, one that was used for primarily for outpatient appointments and follow ups with the psych department and counselling services.

Natasha assumed the protective detail exterior and guided Maria into the building, into the elevator and onto the top floor. As they passed, some agents would mutter a polite ‘ma’am’ under their breath out of respect but decided that their shoes were suddenly more interesting.

When they reached the fifth floor, Maria almost stopped in her tracks.

Meyer was a middle aged balding man who wore glasses and terrible wool suits despite his more than generous paycheck as a result of being the Chief of Psychology and Psychological Research for SHIELD. He was waiting in the patients lounge for Maria and did not present a pleasant bedside manner as they approached.

“Assistant Director Hill, it’s nice to see you well and finally in my office,” he drawled. His glasses were hanging low on his nose. He smirked at the sight of Natasha, no doubt remembering the last time she was ordered to his office and the argument that had ensued. Natasha was not petty and understood how to manipulate people, but this guy simply knew how to push _all_ of her buttons. And she hated him for it.

“Can we just get this over with?” she asked, pushing past him with Natasha hot on her heels.

When the redhead made to enter the office behind Maria, she was called back, “I’m sorry Agent Romanov, but you cannot be present for this. Not matter what your reasoning is for being here.”

Maria’s jaw clenched tightly. “It’s fine. Just wait here.”

“Are you sure?” she was met with a nod. She could practically hear the begging in Maria’s voice; she wasn’t happy, but if either of them kicked up too much of a fuss, it would only play in to Meyer’s decision. “Okay.”

Natasha dropped into the chair closest to the door and for a moment wished that she was childish enough to justify tripping Meyer as he walked past into office. It was these kinds of temptations that made her want to hang out with Barton, simply so she could use his juvenile behaviour.

Maria took her seat and slightly flinched when the door clicked shut. Until this moment, she had never felt as small, weak and unable to hold her own as she did right now.

She sunk a little further into her chair.


End file.
